


The Morning After

by accioackerman



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, POV Second Person, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 03:56:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4164816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accioackerman/pseuds/accioackerman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She returns a lazy smile, and you feel like a lovestruck teenager because all you can think of is <i>Fuck she is god damn beautiful</i> and <i>Can I ask her to marry me?</i></p>
<p>Takes place after <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/4084285">Foolish</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published [here](http://accioackerman.tumblr.com/post/121616509874).

It’s been a long time since you had more than three hours of sleep a day – but it’s all over now, there won’t be any of your men running down the hallways in the middle of night yelling _Wall Rose has been breached!_ and there won’t be a need to jump out of bed to get your gear ready. From now, it’s just going to paperwork and reports and all other meaningless shit that has to be done. You can feel yourself growing old just from thinking about that.

 

But for now, you want to put that all aside because none of that matters more than the person lying in bed with you. The past few hours have been an emotional rollercoaster for you; you’re still reeling from the realisation that there are no more titans left for you to slay, that humanity has finally claimed their freedom, and though you’ve lost a portion of your men in the last battle your own squad is still alive. She is still alive.

 

And you’ve also found out that she’s been in love with you for quite a while.

 

It’s hard to believe because she’s always _Eren this, Eren that._ And from the moment you exchanged glances with her in the court room you understood what it meant by _if looks could kill._ You were sure that she loathed you. That she would have charged right at you and sliced your nape off if Armin hadn’t held her back. You thought that it would be a nightmare to have her under your command, but it turned out easier than you’d expected – she’d listened to your orders and worked with you even when the rest of the squad was still very much hesitant over your instructions of _When you can kill the enemy, kill._

 

“Since… Historia’s coronation, I guess,” was what she’d said when you asked her when she’d started to have feelings for you. You don’t believe in fate and destiny and all that crap, and you’re an absolute hopeless when it comes to relationships, but you’re not hopeless to the point where you don’t even know how feelings work.

 

It had been the same day for you. All of you were celebrating in the kitchen after the coronation and she’d slipped into the empty chair beside yours and raised her glass at you and said, “Shall we have a toast, Captain? For whatever that we’ve achieved so far?” And as your glasses clinked against each other you wondered how you’ve become so familiar with her, how talking to her feels like the most natural thing in the world, and how you wished that it was just the two of you sans the others who were making a ruckus in the background. You remember talking to her all night until Erwin and Hanji were dead drunk and until the kids had long retired to their quarters, you remember her bidding you goodnight and you certainly remember going to bed with a smile on your lips.

 

She’s sleeping beside you right now, her mouth slack and you can hear her soft breathing, her chest rising and falling gently. The rays of the morning sun filter through the curtains and you’re not sure which is more blinding – the morning light, or her. As you reach an arm out to push away a lock of hair that’s covering her eyes, you marvel at the breathtaking sight before you. You’re not good with words and the only thing you can come up with is _beautiful,_ and that’s exactly what she is. She has her fair share of admirers – one of them in your own squad – so you can’t quite believe that she actually likes you when she could have chosen among the younger suitors. There’s always a possibility that she might grow tired of you one day when you start having to move about with a cane or have your eyesight fail you or when you’re no longer able to do your usual cleaning because of your aching back and joints.

 

Fuck, it’s only been less than a day since you guys confessed to each other and you’re already thinking about the future.

 

She gives a light sneeze and stirs from her sleep. In the midst of sleeping she’d kicked off the covers, so you reach over and pull them over her body once more. Her eyes open and she blinks groggily once, twice, and she slowly registers the situation around her and suddenly your heart thumps wildly against your ribcage and a million thoughts run through your mind like _what if she regrets this what if she was really caught up in the moment when she kissed me and what if she still loves that brat after all-_

 

She flicks a finger at your forehead to get your attention. “You’re thinking too much,” she says, her voice still rough from sleep. In two short years she’s not only grown to become your equal; she’s also learnt to read you like an open book.

 

“…You’re in no position to be lecturing me.” is all you can manage. She returns a lazy smile, and you feel like a lovestruck teenager because all you can think of is _Fuck she is god damn beautiful_ and _Can I ask her to marry me?_ You’re glad Hanji isn’t around to see your face right now – she’d mock and laugh at you until the day she kicks the bucket.

 

“I should get up soon. Before Sasha awakes and starts looking for me.” She says, pushing herself up from the bed.

 

“Yeah.” You answer, but all you want is for her to stay a little while more. She must have sensed the disappointment in your voice because she leans over to peck lightly on your lips. That’s your second kiss with her in less than a day. Maybe it isn’t so bad after all.

 

“I’ll be in the kitchen after I wash up. I’ll make tea for the both of us.”

 

“Alright.”

 

Once she leaves, you roll over to the side of the bed where she’d just slept on. It’s still warm and the pillow smells of her shampoo, and you think about how you could wake up like this every day for the rest of your life.

 

You allow yourself to imagine it for another five minutes before getting up to join her in the kitchen.


End file.
